Entry Into the Saga
by Dark Xavier
Summary: The story of a young New Republic Starfighter pilot who hopes and dreams for glory alongside Wedge Antilles.
1. Prologue

Entry Into the Saga

Author: Dark Xavier

Notice: This fanfic bases itself off of an original character from the Star Wars: X-Wing series of novels written by Arron Allston and Michael A. Stackpole. However, this is also an alternate universe version, and thus Wraith Squadron, a group that transfers over to New Republic Intelligence in the original story, does not. They remain as part of the New Republic Starfighter Command. Also, Major Wes Janson remains with Wraith Squadron (much against his wishes) as their XO and Lieutenant Narwara Ven is still the XO of Rogue Squadron.

Prologue: In Too Deep

The young pilot engaged his four fusial thrust engines at full throttle, launching his X-wing deeper into the furball surrounding the New Republic Cruiser, _Mon Remonda_, a beautiful vessel manufactured by the Mon Calamari, a fishlike species of bipeds that were well known for their great engineering and manufacturing skills. His R2 unit beeped loudly at him as the Empire's most maneuverable starfighter, a TIE Interceptor, fell in place behind him, locking him up with its targeting systems. The pilot's R2 unit squealed loudly as the TIE began raining deadly streams of laser fire at the X-wing's rear shields. The pilot felt hit after hit dissipate on the shields, mere meters from his snubfighter. He grimaced – not a good sign. He was sure that the sensors recording his flight would notice that.

Bringing himself back to the battle at hand, the pilot found a pair of TIE fighters chasing after a pair of his wingmen.

"Green Seven?"

"You have lead, Eight."

The pilot dove into the fray, chasing after the two TIEs endangering his wingmen. He locked up the trailing TIE in his targeting brackets and squeezed the trigger. A pair of red lasers launched themselves from two of the cannons on the tips of his X-wing's stabilizers. They sliced cleanly through the TIE's port wing, hulling the craft as they continued on their course. The dead TIE rolled lazily over onto its starboard wing and fell towards the distant planet's gravity well.

"Nice shot, Eight."

"Thanks, Seven."

Just behind Green Eight, Green Seven's pilot fired a quad-linked set of lasers at the lead TIE, shearing the starboard wing clean off, sending the TIE into an uncontrollable spin. It exploded into an incandescent ball of gases and shrapnel two seconds later.

The comm unit crackled to life. "Thanks Seven, Eight."

"No problem, but you owe us a drink when this is all over."

"Done."

Green Eight's R2 unit squealed once again as a pair of new TIE Interceptors fell in behind the two X-Wings.

"Eight, look out behind..." Green Seven's X-wing blew apart as a quartet of green lasers from one of the TIEs punctured his shields and slammed into the back of the X-wing. "...you" the pilot said after his X-wing was a rapidly dissipating cloud of gas a kilometer or so back.

Green Eight slammed his foot down on the etheric rudder, swinging his fighter around one hundred and eighty degrees. What he saw frightened him. The two TIE Interceptors that had been following him were from the infamous 181st Imperial Fighter Group, led by the great Imperial ace, Baron Soontir Fel. The last thing he saw before his fighter was destroyed was the horizontal red stripes of the 181st and eight green lasers converging on his snubfighter's nose.

The seal on Green Eight's simulator popped open, exposing the pilot to the bright lights of the simulator room. His vision cleared to reveal a colonel, his training instructor, standing over him with a scowl on his face.

"Now, class. Can anyone tell me PRECISELY what Pilot Candidate Torin did wrong in this exercise?"

Torin shamefully looked down back into his simulator's cockpit. It was going to be one of those days...


	2. Chapter 1

Entry Into the Saga

Chapter 1

Three standard hours after the end to another disastrous simulator run, Pilot Candidate Cole Torin stood at attention in his commanding officer's private study. Torin, a native of Corellia, prided himself on being from the same planet as some of the great heroes of the New Republic, such as Wedge Antilles, commander of the highly successful Rogue and Wraith Squadrons, and General Han Solo, whose very flagship Torin had been flying over in his recent simulator run. The young man had startlingly handsome features, and was slightly taller than the average pilot in the New Republic Starfighter Command. He had dark, mysterious blue eyes, which sometimes made many of the females that he encountered blush if they looked at him. He had a full head of soft, thick, brown hair, and had a very good build, some of his features clearly noticeable under his uniform. Unfortunately for Torin, his superiors didn't care where he hailed from or what he looked like. Torin wasn't even sure whether they cared about him at all.

Torin stared at the wall just above his commanding officer's head. He could see that the officer was tapping at the datapad in front of him.

"Pilot Candidate Torin," the officer, Colonel Mora, said with a firm tone. "Since your entry into the pilot candidate training program for the New Republic Starfighter Command, you have shown excellent marks in astronavigation and your skills in battle are quite commendable. However..." The way that the colonel began his sentence made Torin wince. "...you have had several incidences of gross insubordination, and at times, your peers have reported a...lack of logic...in your decisions in and out of the cockpit. Take today for example. You and your wingman pursued two lone TIE fighters who were hot on the tails of another pair of X-wings. However, you failed to notice, or do anything about, the four TIE Interceptors that were sitting behind you, taking shots at your shields as you attempted to rescue your wingmen. Tell me, Torin...What were you thinking?!"

Torin stood silent for a moment, and then gave his response. "I was concentrating on helping out my fellow wingmen at the cost of myself, sir."

The colonel smirked. "Very good, Torin. I'm glad you were able to see the fault in your logic. Now, tell me. What did your wingman think of this?"

Torin didn't know how to respond. "I never had the chance to ask him, sir."

"EXACTLY, Torin." The colonel put down the datapad and folded his hands across his desk. A lean man, sometimes appearing sickeningly thin, Colonel Mora had been brought up into a family heavily involved in the Rebel Alliance, as they had been known at that time. He prided himself on his military upbringing, and sometimes looked down on other people who did not receive that upbringing. His small, bright green eyes and short, military regulation black hair sometimes intimidated anyone he was with. "You see, Torin. You view yourself as someone who thinks that they can win a battle on their own. You see yourself as a person who tries to be a hero by saving others before thinking of himself. Believe me, Torin. The New Republic already has quite enough martyrs. We don't need a hotshot pilot becoming the next. However, considering your scores and battle data, I can't drop you from this program. Thus, I've decided to let you graduate with the remainder of your peers. However, I'm tempted to write recommendations to keep you out of front line service until you straighten yourself out. That is all, Torin. Dismissed."

Torin threw a crisp military salute and turned on his heel. He marched out of the room as if being graded on his precision. Once he was gone, Colonel Mora gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair. He activated his personal terminal and began recording a message for a close friend of his, General Wedge Antilles.

-----

Cole activated the door panel outside of his quarters and scuffed over to his bed. He collapsed on it and closed his eyes. A few seconds later the door to his quarters slid open and his roommate, Renar Voss, also known as "Tiger," walked in, a smile on his face. Voss received the name after an unfortunate incident with a heating grid in the mess. He got a little too close after tripping over a piece of food and it left him with a series of lines going across his cheeks and lower arms. Somehow his injury never dampened his spirit.

"What are you so happy about, Tiger?" Torin grumbled.

Tiger gave a smirk and opened the small storage panel above his bunk, taking out a colorful datapad full of his favorite games. "Another lecture from Colonel Mora, I gather?"

Cole groaned and shoved his face into his pillow.

"Thought so." Tiger gave a toothy grin and took out his pointer, tapping repeatedly as he played virtual sabacc on the datapad.

Torin sat up, glaring at Tiger. "You annoy me," he stated simply. "I'm going to the refresher. Find somewhere to roll over and die for me, will you?"

Tiger looked up from his game, a smile still on his face. "Sure thing, Cole. Will you find me a nice planet somewhere for my grave, too?"

Torin grunted and punched the button to close the refresher door with a bang. Tiger looked up and chuckled to himself.

-----

General Wedge Antilles sat down in the chair behind his desk in his personal office, his two Executive Officers, or XOs, Lieutenant Narwara Ven from Rogue Squadron, and Major Wes Janson from Wraith Squadron, sitting in dented, dirty ejection seats taken from decommissioned X-wings. Narwara Ven was a Twi'lek, a humanoid species from the planet Ryloth, known for the fleshy appendages that protruded from their heads that were called _lekku _or brain tails. Ryloth was a culture with a great pride in its warriors, but not many served with the New Republic. Before joining Rogue Squadron, Ven was a defense attorney, and had served for the squadron in one case before. After an unfortunate encounter with shrapnel, Narwara Ven was decommissioned as a pilot, but remained with the squadron anyway, a metal replacement serving as the lower portion of his right leg. Wes Janson, on the other hand, was a babyfaced human from one of many human-inhabited worlds, Tanaab. He had served by Wedge's side for many years, and was one of the few friends that he had left from long ago.

Wedge activated his terminal, a message from a friend of his, Colonel Mora, immediately popping up. He opened it and watched as the face of Colonel Mora appeared, his two XOs remaining quiet as he looked over the message. The hologram of Colonel Mora began speaking almost immediately:

_General Antilles,_

_It is good to once again speak to you after your extended leave. I hope all is well. However, I don't have much time for formalities, so I'll keep this brief. My next class of X-wing pilots is due to graduate come next week. There is one pilot in particular, Cole Torin, that I'd like you to watch over for me. He shows great promise, but he's a bit...well...he needs a surgical laser to implant some logic into his head.._

Wedge gave a small chuckle as the hologram looked down at a datapad and then looked back up.

_I have recommended that Torin be kept out of front line service until he learns some discipline. However, I think that it would do him some good to work with his idol. Needless to say, that idol is you._

The Colonel smiled and continued.

_I learned that in your recent battles you have suffered some losses, and I thought that you might have a position open for him. Please consider this offer, Commander. I await your reply._

The hologram faded and Wedge turned off his terminal. He sat behind his desk and thought.


	3. Chapter 2

Entry Into the Saga

Chapter 2

Wedge looked up from the holoprojector to question his two XOs. "Well? What do you think?"

Janson spoke up quickly, a small grin on his face. "Check his record. Any red marks on it?"

Wedge looked over Torin's file on his datapad. "It says here that he's got several counts of gross insubordination and a 'lack of logic.'"

"PERFECT! We'll take him! Another screwup for Wraith Squadron!"

Narwara Ven chuckled at Janson's comment as Wedge ran his hand down his face in frustration.

"Wes, you're hopeless."

"Yeah I know. Isn't it great?"

Wedge slid a hand down his face and turned to question the Twi'lek officer. "Lieutenant Ven? What do you think?"

The Rogue Squadron XO leaned back in the ejection seat and shrugged. The look suggested indifference, since Wraith Squadron was famous in the New Republic Starfighter Command for helping the hopeless get back on track.

"This is Janson's field of expertise. The Rogues are the recruitment poster models, remember?"

Janson smirked. "He's got a point there."

Wedge sighed. If Cole Torin was anything like some of the other pilots that Wedge had chosen for Wraith Squadron, he'd fit in perfectly.

-----

Torin, freshly changed and drying his hair with a towel, walked out of the refresher station. Voss was gone. Cole wasn't surprised. _Tiger's probably off harassing some poor young female somewhere._ Torin turned walked over to his terminal and turned it on. A message flashed up on the screen. It was a priority message for all graduating pilots. There was a final simulator one-on-one competition between the graduates in thirty minutes. All pilots were invited to attend. It was signed by Colonel Mora. Torin decided that he could use a little fun, and he quickly opened the door to his quarters and ran in the direction of the simulator room.

-----

Colonel Mora entered his office and sat down his private terminal. After finishing his message to General Antilles, Mora had gone off to arrange a sort of "graduate competition" to give his pilots a few stress-free moments of fun. Mora turned on the screen to find a priority message from Starfighter Command. It was a priority message from General Antilles. It simply read:

Confidential...Security Level – Secret

Pilot Candidate Cole Torin is to report to Wraith Squadron's base-of-operations at 1400 hours in six day's time.

Message authorized by General Wedge Antilles, New Republic Starfighter Command

Mora smiled. Torin would be in excellent care after his graduation. The colonel turned off his terminal and got up from his desk and left his office, walking in the direction of the simulator room.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Cole walked into the simulator room. Inside was a vast array of different mockups of New Republic and Imperial fighter cockpits. Torin walked over to the bar and ordered a non-alcoholic fruit fizz, since alcoholic beverages were forbidden when on duty. Sitting at the bar, he watched as a small group of pilots, some from his training squadron, others from different ones, laughed and clinked glasses as they told stories of simulator missions. Cole watched as one candidate moved his hands through the air, describing one of his maneuvers that he'd done in a recent mission. Something about those movements looked familiar. Torin caught a few words of the conversation:

"TIE...behind...sitting duck...didn't see me...stupid kid."

The candidate telling the conversation looked up and saw Torin staring at him. The other man smiled and got up, his drink still in his hand. He walked over, a large smirk on his face, and put his drink on the bar next to Cole.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. So Torin, come back to get vaped again? Or did you finally realize that you're out of your league?"

Torin quietly sipped his drink and continued sitting there as if the man had never come up at all. The other man shoved Cole, knocking his drink out of his hand. The glass dropped off of the counter and hit the floor, smashing into a million pieces. The green liquid pooled around where the remnants of the glass were and turned the pieces of glass a similar hue as the drink.

"Hey! I'm talking to you! What? Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

Cole's right hook caught the man in the jaw. The man fell off of the bar stool and collapsed on the ground, hitting his head on the wall of the counter. The trainee's red drink splattered all over his uniform. Cole slapped a few credits on the counter and got up from his stool. He leaned down towards the dazed man and spoke to him quietly.

"Dream on, Cigner. You got lucky and you know it. I'll take you on any time. Oh, and by the way, I'm still a better pilot than you are.

The dazed man, Kalem Cigner, was one of the better pilots in the squadron, and his piloting marks were almost at Cole's standard. The only reason that Torin often lost to Cigner in the simulators was because of his stupidity on occasions. Kalem slowly got up and shook his head to clear the daze. He quickly thought of a retort so that he could continue to torment Cole.

"Oh, yeah Torin? Prove it! You and me. Here. Right now."

Another of Cole's downsides was his addiction to a challenge. Torin turned around slowly with a big smirk on his face.

"Ok, Kalem. Let's go. X-wing versus X-wing?" Cole said as he began walking towards the simulators across the room.

The other pilot smiled as well. His humongous ego was hard-pressed to back down at times.

"Deal. What type of battle?"

"One-on-one. Non-atmospheric. Twenty kilometer starting distance."

"Fine with me. Let's go."

Torin pressed the release hatch on an X-wing simulator and climbed in. He hooked up his radio to his helmet and called his R2 unit, Tate, to the simulator room. About two minutes later, Cole's R2 entered the room, rolling along pleasantly, whistling occasionally. The astromech droid plugged into the socket that represented the socket where it would have sat in a real X-wing and began turning on the various systems of the simulator.

A few units down, Kalem was doing the same in his simulator, except he had a crowd of his buddies around the unit, looking at a few holoprojectors that were about to show the course of the battle. They began placing bets on the fight, mostly in favor of Kalem. That was expected, though. They were all as egotistical and stubborn as Cigner was.

Kalem's voice buzzed on the comm unit in Cole's helmet.

"You ready yet, Torin? Or do you want to back out now?"

Torin quickly answered the other pilot's statement.

"Shut up, Kalem. Let's do this."

Cole began flicking the various switches and pressing the appropriate buttons to start up the artificial X-wing. Tate registered four engines lit and at 100 capacity. That was good.

A few moments later the screens inside Cole's simulator lit up, showing a vast, empty starfield around him. The only blip on his sensors was Kalem's X-wing, which was registered as "Grey Three." Cole's own X-wing was "Green Eight." Torin slammed the throttles to the stops, pushing all four of the snubfighter's fusial thrust engines to their limit. The craft rocketed forward, and the distance between Cole's and Kalem's X-wings began closing rapidly.

Torin reinforced his front shields with power from his lasers and switched his weapons over to proton torpedoes as he attempted to get a lock on Kalem's X-wing. Tate began beeping slowly as the reticule on Cole's windscreen turned green, attempting to find a target to lock onto. At about seven kilometers, the reticule turned yellow and Tate's tone increased, telling Cole that he was about to get a lock on the other craft. Suddenly Tate wailed out a warning tone and showed a torpedo lock on Cole's X-wing. The pilot reacted instantly, slamming the throttles back, inverting, and diving to avoid a possible proton torpedo launch. Cole could hear Kalem's laughter over the comm unit.

"Aww, is little Cole running away already? Come on! Fight me!"

Cole, furious, performed a tight loop to starboard that lined him up with Kalem again. This time Cole pumped power into his lasers and opened up at about one and a half klicks away from Kalem, which was the maximum effective distance of the X-wing's cannons. The single blasts splashed harmlessly against the other pilot's shields, giving off a white hue. However, the volley of shots that Cole continuously launched at his opponent provided him an opportunity to fool him.

Kalem laughed. "That's more like it. Now then, how shall I kill you?"

As Kalem contemplated, Cole fired more shots into Kalem's shields, slowly weakening them and temporarily blinding the other pilot. Just before the two craft were about to collide, Torin dove down underneath Kalem's X-wing and slammed on the etheric rudder, sending his craft into a one hundred and eighty degree spin. Cole quickly switched over to torpedoes again and got a solid lock moments later. The young pilot launched two torpedoes towards Kalem's X-wing. The first blew up against the other pilot's shields, collapsing them. The second torpedo struck the starboard engines on the X-wing, completely ripping off the strike foils on that side of the craft and causing the back half of the craft to evaporate. If it had been an actual battle, Kalem would have been dead from a catastrophic system failure. In this case, he was eliminated from the battle, proclaiming Cole as the winner.

Torin whooped into his helmet's radio and shut down the simulator. He popped open the hatch and jumped out to find Colonel Mora facing him, a large smile on his face.

"Colonel Mora? I...I didn't expect you to be here so soon, sir."

The colonel smiled. "That's okay, Torin. Nice shooting there. Never seen a maneuver like that. What do you call it?"

Torin, startled, studdered for a moment before thinking of something.

"Um, I haven't really thought about it, since I just came up with it. Hmm...I know. I call it the 'Torin Blind-and-Slide'."

Colonel Mora laughed. "I like it. Now why don't you go shake hands with your opponent."

Grinning, Cole hopped out of the simulator and strutted over to Kalem, grinning madly.


End file.
